


Sleep

by Jeyfeather1234



Series: Burning Eyes [1]
Category: GODZILLA Trilogy (Anime 2017)
Genre: Alien Mythology/Religion, Angst, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Psychological Trauma, Sleep Deprivation, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-07-10 14:31:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15951296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jeyfeather1234/pseuds/Jeyfeather1234
Summary: Metphies could stay awake for a while longer. If he didn't sleep, he wouldn't have to relive those horrific moments over and over again until his death.Or where Metphies refuses to sleep despite the doctor's orders.





	Sleep

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't seen any fics about Ghidorah's attack on Exifcalus and the trauma of that so I decided to be the first to do so.

Metphies stared at the blank grey walls of his room absentmindedly as he tried to fight off the urge to sleep. He had lost track of time and couldn't care less about his hair not being groomed properly. All he cared about was staying awake for a while longer despite the general's orders and his body's need for rest. He didn't care if he was slowly killing himself or if his mentality was deteriorating. It was better than seeing...that over and over again every night. The images of death and destruction returned and that dreadful feeling of knowing that It was still out there somewhere...

The door to his room opened as the medic stepped inside and sat in a chair next to him. "I see you haven't taken my advice on getting sleep," he began, glancing at the priest who had his back turned towards him. "I know you're going through some trauma, Metphies. We all are, but sleep deprivation isn't going to help you cope." Metphies was silent. He didn't feel like talking. He didn't want to listen to the medic lecture him about coping properly. He wanted to be left alone. For a short while, he was able to tolerate the talking but quickly became an annoyance to him.

"Leave me be," he muttered after a moment.

"Excuse me?"

"I said, leave."

"I'm trying to help you--"

"I don't need your help!" Metphies sat up and glared at him. "I want you to shut up and leave me alone." The anger he had kept bottled up was spilling over onto the floor and for a brief moment, he wanted to empty it all out. But he needed to control himself lest he ended up killing the poor fool. So he continued to glare at him. The medic, startled by the sudden outburst, stood up and quickly exited the room. Metphies sighed in relief and laid back down. 

He was tired. So so tired. But It would not let him rest. It would haunt him for the rest of his life and there was no changing that. This was his punishment that no one but himself would understand. This was his curse: to give counsel and comfort to others but never to receive it.


End file.
